mothers on the verge

It seems that all those donuts I consumed while in California have come home to roost, not to mention those damn jelly babies. Gah. A routine visit to my baby doc yesterday resulted in a severe reprimand from the lovely Doctor R for truly excessive weight gain (4k in a month , eek - a mistake, surely?), advice on how to de-puff my poor much-maligned limbs and a glucose test. Turns out my glucose levels are ready for take off so I now have to avoid sugar (sob, the only vice I have left) and complex carbs (ditto yummy crunchy bread and lovely pasta). So, when you add this in to all the pregnancy no-no's, it ends up that I can't eat effing anything except piles of veggies, a bit of fruit (excluding anything with a high GL ) and mounds of well-cooked protein. However, should probably stop viewing this latest turn up for the books as yet another of life's little attempts to piss on my bonfire and do some research as not entirely sure what it all means except that...

My own personal favorites, some cheaper than others but all exciting in their own small way: 1) A sudden surprise cuddle and declaration of love from my husband and/or daughters 2) Putting the i-Pod on shuffle and rediscovering a brilliant once loved but long forgotten song 3) Running into a good friend while out doing chores and going naughtily 'off-schedule' for a spontaneous coffee or lunch 4) Finding the perfect pair of trousers at a knockdown price in the sales, then getting to the till and discovering they've been marked down by a further 20%.... ahhhh 5) A packet of Walker's Cheese & Onion crisps, consumed in solitary silence 6) Discovering a love note from one of the kids left on my pillow, peppered with amusingly creative spelling and crafted with childish passion 7) During the annual wardrobe cull, trying on an old dress which turns out to fit perfectly and is just right for an upcoming big event 8) Getting to a new pack of ...

Off to California this morning, so may or may not be able get online until 12th April, when we get back to Dubai. So if not, Happy Easter, all. x

Why having a girlfriend makes sense: The toilet seat would always be down. Where it belongs. A girlfriend would never ask why the hell you 'needed' to buy yet another pair of shoes. All women understand that expanding the shoe wardrobe has nothing to do with 'need' and  everything to do with desire. You'd be more likely to fit into a girlfriend's jeans, thus doubling your outfit choices in one fell stroke. Strange emotional outbursts would be immediately understood as being the product of rogue hormones rather than down to certifiable insanity requiring a straightjacket and immediate divorce. Women would also know that this kind of outburst is easily cured by chocolate and/or ice-cream, preferably accompanied by sympathetic noises and a cuddle. Being a bit lazy about leg hair removal would be unlikely to provoke insults as to sexual orientation and/or your partner insisting on calling you 'Trevor'. Other women understand...

Let’s talk about allergy-moms. You know the ones – please don’t bring anything with eggs, wheat, citrus to school for shared snack because my child is allergic. Or the mom who managed to get milk snacks banned in our school, until a teacher grabbed a child's yogurt, sent him to the principal’s office, and his mom explained what she would do if her son didn’t get his yogurt back. That experiment ended. These were food freaks, as far I was concerned. And as long as they kept their freakdom to themselves I was fine. (I never threw peanut-allergies in there – that is terrifying, and a totally different situation.) But two months ago my daughter got diagnosed with the genetic condition, Celiac disease. We’re not talking ‘I’m not eating gluten because I hope I lose weight.’ Or ‘I can’t eat wheat while I’m nursing because my infant is allergic.’ Or even, ‘We’re hoping one day she outgrows it.’ I’m talking my kid can’t eat school lunch, can’t put her banana on a table if a sandwich sat...

Welcome to the new look Mothers on the Verge. Thanks to those lovely people over at Blogger, who have in their wisdom introduced an all-singing, all dancing, bells 'n' whistles super-fancified new template designer , we can now pretend to be so much better than we actually are at all that technical html splendidly geeky stuff. Yup, what I'm saying is that it's fairly idiot proof. Meaning that even we old birds (y'know, desperately trying to keep up with the kids but still having trouble remembering to say 'DVD' rather than 'video'... yup, we're probably doomed) can make our blogs look pretty without a whole heap of effort. We likey. You blogger dudes rock. Hats off.

Following on from Tuesday's post: Mamafia are bitches and so bitchiness is the only thing they understand; the only solution is to out-bitch the bitches . Simple, right? Erm, kind of. The problem is if, like us, you're invariably too slow in shooting back a cutting response. The best retort in the world is inevitably wasted when the recipient is but a tiny speck on the horizon. Leaving you standing there feeling impotent, kicking yourself and cursing your incompetence. To lessen the chances of this most unsatisfying outcome, MotV has been honing our bitch gene to a fine point while slaving away on a cut-out-and-keep response sheet to amply prepare you for any future Mamafia face-offs. Read on and weep: Mamafia put-down : "Oh, you are looking well. I so love to see a pregnant woman looking properly pregnant, with real womanly curves and a great big bump. So wonderful and brave that you're not obsessing about your weight and denying yourself...

One of the absolute essentials for all mothers to get down with - and something they NEVER tell you in all those blah-blah happyland baby manual books - is how to deal with the Mamafia, aka (s)mothers. Now, new mothers may lull themselves into a false sense of security by thinking they have a few more years to go before they have to do deal with the school gate crowd. But I have news for you , girlfriend. The Mamafia is everywhere; where mamas gather, the Mamafia lurks. Sure they're at the school gates - but they're also at Baby Rhyme Time, at local library story sessions, at Happy Clappers Teenies Music Mayhem, stretching out at Baby Yoga, in your baby doctor's waiting room... they might even be in disguise as One Of Your Friends . Yup, now you're a mama you just can't get away from them. But how to recognise a fully fledged Mamafia member? Here's a simple checklist: All Mamafia moms display Alpha characteristics. This makes ...